Neverseen

by Shannon Messenger

  Linh flinched, and Sophie wished she could hug both siblings. The elves were supposed to be this superior, enlightened species—but they sure had some terrible parents in the mix.

  “How long ago was that?” she asked.

  Linh’s hand moved to her Exillium necklace. “Twelve hundred and fourteen days.”

  A little more than three years, Sophie realized. “That’s a long time to be banished.”

  Linh nodded, pulling the water from their clothes and hair with a sweep of her arm. “We should get out of sight. There have been many visitors to the Colony since the gnomes left.”

  Sophie froze. “Were any of them wearing black cloaks?”

  “Three were, yes,” Linh said. “They came a week ago and checked the roots.”

  Sophie ran to the abandoned grove and dropped to her knees in front of the largest tree. Curled red roots jutted out of the ground all around her.

  “Did you hear the Neverseen say anything?” she asked.

  “The Neverseen?” Tam repeated.

  “Remember when you asked me about monsters? They’re who I was imagining. If you ever see them again—hide. They’re involved with this plague somehow. The ogres are too. We just haven’t been able to prove it.”

  She reached to take a sample of the roots, then realized it could infect Calla.

  “Who’s ‘we’?” Tam asked.

  “Me. My friends. And . . . others.” Sophie wasn’t sure how much to tell them about the Black Swan. “Let’s just say I know people who are good at uncovering secrets. And when you’re facing a group like the Neverseen, you need lots of backup.”

  Branches crunched behind them, making the three of them jump. But it was only the wind creaking through the sickly trees.

  “This way,” Linh said, leading them up the crest of a hill, where they could see the span of the narrow valley.

  A river cut down the center before it disappeared into the jagged gray mountains, and an enormous iron gate barred the pass beyond the foothills.

  “Ravagog,” Sophie whispered, her feet itching to run toward the city—and far, far away.

  “Sometimes, at night, we can hear them marching,” Linh said.

  “Are you sure it’s safe to stay here?” Sophie asked.

  “We’re banished,” Tam reminded her. “Nowhere is safe.”

  They’d reached the river by then, and Linh raised her hand, flicking her wrist and making the water lift out of the riverbed. The river made an arch over their heads, leaving dry ground for them to cross underneath. As soon as they reached the other side of the shore, the water crashed down and surged away.

  “Wow,” Sophie breathed.

  Linh blushed.

  Tam headed for a thicket of gnarled trees, which didn’t look particularly inviting, but at least the grove hadn’t been infected yet. He waved a clump of shadows away, revealing a gap hidden in the branches. Sophie followed Linh through, finding herself in a nook of green grass with two weathered tents. The threadbare quilt Linh spread out for them to sit on had been patched together from the craziest bits of fabric—old human T-shirts, lace doilies, the butt pockets of a pair of jeans.

  “This is really where you guys live?” she had to ask.

  “We don’t need much,” Linh said.

  Maybe not, but the twins didn’t seem to have anything.

  An idea formed then—one Sophie knew would be gloriously complicated. But it could give Tam and Linh a better life, and make use of their incredible talents.

  “How long are you going to wait before you tell her the rest?” Linh asked her brother, reminding Sophie she should be paying attention.

  “Tell me the rest of what?” Sophie asked.

  Tam shook his head. “We still don’t know her well enough.”

  “Okay, so what do you need to know?” Sophie said. “Ask and I’ll answer.”

  Tam smoothed his bangs over of his eyes and gave her his most defiant stare. “Answers can be lies. If you really want me to trust you, I need to read your shadowvapor.”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” Linh promised. “He just has to let his shadow pass through your mind.”

  “That . . . might be a problem,” Sophie said. “It’s hard to explain without getting into a bunch of crazy stuff about my genetics. But my mind is impenetrable. Even Councillor Terik couldn’t descry me.”

  “Shadowvaper is simpler to sense than potential,” Linh said.

  “Since when are you the expert on my ability?” Tam asked her.

  “Same reason I know you’re stalling,” Linh told him. “I’ve lived with you for almost fifteen years. And this is why we brought her here. Do the reading and we’ll tell her—assuming you don’t mind,” she added, turning to Sophie.

  Sophie wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but she knew she needed their information. “You can try the reading,” she told Tam. “But you have to promise you’ll tell me even if you can’t understand what you see in my head.”

  “Deal,” Linh said, earning a glare from her brother. But he moved toward Sophie without further argument.

  “Hold still,” he said as Sophie flinched away from his shifting shadow. “Linh’s right—it won’t hurt. But it will give you chills.”

  Chills was an understatement. It felt like a blizzard blasting through her head. But once his shadow retreated, the freezing thawed immediately.

  “I can see why Terik struggled with his descrying,” Tam said, rubbing the spot between his brows. “You have a lot of shadowvapor. But you also have a lot of illumination, and they cancel each other out.”

  “Is that a good thing?” Sophie asked.

  “Balance is good,” Linh agreed.

  “But it can be hard to hold on to,” Tam countered.

  “Which only matters for her future,” Linh pressed.

  The words felt like a warning, and Sophie wanted to pick them apart. But Linh was urging her brother to share his secret, and it looked like Tam was finally ready.

  He moved across the clearing, staring at Wildwood through a small gap in the trees. “Before I tell you, you should know that what I’m going to say technically counts as treason. And you told me you still have a few friends in the Lost Cities, so you’re probably hoping to go back someday.”

  “I still want to know,” Sophie said.

  Tam nodded and turned to face her. “When the Council was here gathering samples, they didn’t think I could hear them. But I used my shadow to carry my consciousness to where they were working. I couldn’t tell which Councillors it was—only that it was a male and a female. And the female Councillor said, ‘We should’ve warned them this could happen.’ Then the guy said, ‘No one can know.’ ”

  FIFTY-ONE

  OH GOOD, SHE’S back,” Keefe said as Sophie arrived in the Crooked Forest. “Now we can clobber her.”

  Fitz stalked forward. “We’re supposed to be a team! That means you take us with you when you run away with strangers, not give me four lousy words and disappear!”

  “I’m sorry,” Sophie said, her brain still reeling from the afternoon’s revelations. To know the Council could’ve prevented everything that was happening was too terrible of a thought to settle.

  But she couldn’t tell her friends with Calla nearby. So she focused on safer explanations. “Tam only gave me a second to decide and—”

  “Tam?” Dex interrupted.

  “Yeah. That’s the Shade’s name. And his sister is Linh.”

  “They’re brother and sister?” Biana asked.

  “Twins,” Sophie agreed. “They’re also the teenagers who left the footprints near Wildwood.”

  “You were at Wildwood?” Calla called from the treetops.

  “Are you worried I’m contaminated?” Sophie asked. “I tried to be careful. The only time I got close was to check the roots. Linh said she’d seen the Neverseen inspect them, so I almost took a sample, but then I—”

  “Describe them to me,” Calla interrupted, jumping to the ground.

 
By the time Sophie had finished, Calla looked as green as her thumbs.

  “The roots were red?” she whispered.

  “What does that mean?” Biana asked, draping an arm around Calla’s shoulders to hold her steady.

  “It means their time is almost up,” Calla said. “Red roots are the end. Always. Every time.”

  “How long does that mean the colonists have?” Sophie whispered, clutching her stomach, trying to fight down the nausea.

  “It’s hard to say,” Calla murmured. “Trees have simpler systems than us. But the path is the same. Once those infected see red, they will only have days.”

  “Lur and Mitya said none of the colonists are showing any red,” Sophie told Mr. Forkle as his pacing wore a groove in the rugs of the girls’ common room.

  “Yet,” he added.

  Calla had asked Sophie to transmit to Lumenaria as soon as they’d returned to Alluveterre, to find out if any of the gnomes had reached the final stage. None had, and Sophie had been careful not to tell Mitya what the red meant. But everyone could guess. And the gnome she’d found in Bosk Gorge was still progressing through the stages at a much faster rate. Sophie asked if he remembered what happened to him, or anything that might be useful. But he only remembered blacking out, and then the pain of the plague.

  Sophie glanced over her shoulder to make sure Calla was gone before she said, “Now we have proof that the Council knew about the plague.”

  “Do we?” Mr. Forkle asked. “I thought we had the word of two banished teenagers—one of whom is a Shade and known for insubordination.”

  “You think Tam and Linh are lying?” she asked.

  “Of course not. But their word doesn’t hold the weight you think it does. Especially when you consider how vague the conversation was. All they heard was ‘this could happen,’ and the Council will claim they didn’t mean the plague.”

  “They did also say, ‘No one can know,’ didn’t they?” Dex asked.

  “Which applies to everything the Council does,” Mr. Forkle said. “The majority of their investigations are classified.”

  “And that’s their problem,” Sophie mumbled. “Too many secrets.”

  She thought about Kenric’s cache, wondering what horrors it contained. How many tragedies could that knowledge prevent?

  “I’m often the last to defend the Council, Miss Foster,” Mr. Forkle said, pausing to stare at the waterfall. “But if they’ve chosen to keep this secret, they must’ve had their reasons. Over the centuries the Councillors have shown deep affection for the gnomes. I can’t believe they would intentionally endanger them. Which is why we should focus on the larger discoveries you gained today, and keep our other suspicions to ourselves until we have actual, concrete proof. The lights in the forest could’ve been many things, but I suspect the Psionipath is involved—which would mean the tree you saw before likely has more to do with the plague than a cure. We need to figure out how. And why the tree within had appeared greener and healthier.”

  “Okay, so how do we do that?” Sophie asked.

  “I say we storm Ravagog,” Keefe said. “Who’s in?”

  Mr. Forkle ignored him. “Honestly, Exillium is still the best answer. Look at how much we’ve learned from your attendance there.”

  Keefe sigh-growled. “So we’re wasting the whole weekend?”

  “We never waste anything,” Mr. Forkle told him. “You all have very important things you should be studying and learning. But first, we must address Miss Foster’s plan.”

  “My plan?” Sophie asked, feeling just as confused as her friends.

  “You were going to suggest having the twins join our order, were you not?”

  Sophie’s jaw dropped. “Were you reading my mind?”

  “I could have,” Mr. Forkle told her. “Your reckless actions today more than called for it. But no. I simply know you too well. I was there when you found the starving kitten in the bushes and begged your parents to let you keep him. What did you name him?”

  “Marty.” Sophie was surprised at the way her voice caught. He used to sleep on her pillow every night, even though his big fluffy body stole most of the space for her head.

  “Tam and Linh aren’t a cat,” Sophie said. “And I don’t want to keep them. I just thought . . . we have these huge houses, and plenty of food, and they’re really talented, and—”

  “And it’s a phenomenally bad idea,” Mr. Forkle finished. “They know nothing of our organization, or the sacrifice it requires. We need members who are committed and understand the heavy responsibility, not who are looking for a good meal and warm bed.”

  “But—”

  He held up his hand, silencing her next argument and making her realize how very quiet her friends were being.

  None of them had said a single word in Tam and Linh’s defense. In fact, they all seemed to be avoiding her eyes.

  “I’m not saying we won’t help them,” Mr. Forkle added. “I’ll make arrangements to ensure they have food and safe shelter. But it won’t have anything to do with the Black Swan. Nor should you tell them anything about us.”

  Awkward silence followed, and haunted Sophie the rest of the night. Even after she went to bed, the quiet of her room made her twitchy.

  So she nearly jumped out of her skin when Silveny transmitted, FRIEND?

  Is everything okay? Sophie asked. This was the first time Silveny had been the one to reach out to her.

  OKAY! Silveny promised. SOPHIE OKAY?

  Sophie tried to convince her she was fine, but Silveny could feel her mood, and after some coaxing, Sophie found herself telling Silveny everything. She knew it was silly—she doubted the alicorn could translate half the words she was saying. And yet, Silveny understood enough to transmit, SOPHIE. GOOD. FRIEND.

  Maybe, Sophie thought. Though she wasn’t so sure. She kept thinking about how ready she’d been to endanger Tam and Linh’s lives by bringing them into the Black Swan. She’d already separated her friends from their families and gotten them banished. When would she stop putting people at risk? Even Silveny had endured major changes as a result of their friendship. Before they met, the alicorn had been free to explore the world. Now she was stuck in the Sanctuary, unable to teleport through the mountain walls.

  NO, Silveny insisted. HAPPY! HAPPY! HAPPY!

  She filled Sophie’s mind with memories of Sophie petting her. Caring for her. Protecting her. Flying with her.

  AND KEEFE! Silveny added. AND GREYFELL!

  More memories flooded Sophie’s head of Silveny’s life at the Sanctuary—everything clean and comfortable and cared for.

  Plenty of food.

  Plenty to do.

  Flying with Greyfell. Chasing Greyfell. Playing with Greyfell.

  Wait—that wasn’t playing. . . .

  “Gah!” Sophie said, shoving the last images out of her mind. TMI, Silveny. Too. Much. Information!

  She knew it was supposed to be a natural, beautiful thing. But ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

  TRUST, Silveny told her. FRIEND. SHARE.

  That’s okay—you don’t have to share anymore, I’m good!

  But Silveny had something she needed to tell Sophie. A new word she’d learned, even though Sophie had never taught it to her.

  BABY.

  FIFTY-TWO

  SILVENY’S PREGNANT,” SOPHIE told her friends when she joined them for breakfast.

  Fitz dropped his fork. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh yeah,” Sophie mumbled, sinking into the chair next to him. “She showed me. . . .”

  “GAH!” everyone said.

  Keefe pushed his plate away. “I’m done with food forever.”

  “Me too,” Dex agreed.

  “Me three,” Biana said.

  “Seriously, that is one batch of memories you do not have to share with me,” Fitz told Sophie. “I don’t care if it’s part of our Cognate training.”

  “But it’s still huge,” Biana added. “Do you know how far along she is?”

 
; “I’m guessing it’s new, since the last few times I transmitted to her she didn’t mention anything about—”

  “STOP!” Keefe held up his hands. “Ground rules for this conversation: All talk of alicorn baby-making is off the table—got it? Otherwise I’ll have to rip my ears off. And for the record, I do not want to be there when Baby Glitterbutt arrives.”

  “Me either,” Fitz said. “My dad made me go to the Hekses’ unicorn preserve for a delivery one time.” He shuddered. “Who knew they came out so slimy?”

  “Ew, dude,” Keefe said. “I did not need to know that. Can we talk about something else? Anything else?”

  “Does anyone know how long alicorns stay pregnant for?” Sophie asked.

  Biana shook her head. “We’ve never had a baby alicorn before. But I’m pretty sure unicorns are pregnant for eleven months. So maybe it’s the same?”

  “Do you think Silveny knows?” Fitz asked. “If her instincts are telling her she’s pregnant, maybe they’ll also tell her how it’s going to work.”

  “I guess I can ask. It was hard to get information out of her. All she wanted to tell me about was—”

  “STOP!” Keefe said.

  “I wasn’t going to say that. She was telling me that she’s really hungry. I’m not sure if it’s a pregnancy craving or an excuse to get more treats, but she went on and on and on about how she needs more swizzlespice. We’ll have to find a way to let Jurek know.”

  “Do you think he already knows?” Fitz asked. “He’s the equestrian caretaker at the Sanctuary. Maybe he . . . saw stuff.”

  “WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE GROUND RULES?” Keefe shouted, covering his ears. “That’s it, this conversation is officially over. Next person who says ‘alicorn’ is getting pelted with fruit.”

  “What’s wrong with the alicorns?” Granite asked behind them.

  He’d arrived with Mr. Forkle, each of them carrying stacks of scrolls.

  “Silveny’s pregnant,” Sophie said, and all the scrolls went THUNK!

  “Are you certain?” Granite whispered, bending to gather the uncurling paper.

  Sophie nodded, and Mr. Forkle rushed to her side. “Tell me everything.”